


Darkness.  Nothing But.

by Vintagert



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Dan - Freeform, Death, M/M, Made myself cry, One Shot, Phan - Freeform, Phil - Freeform, Sad, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 09:44:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6233743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintagert/pseuds/Vintagert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a sunny day.  Dan remembered it well; it was as if the sun was mocking him then, telling him that the one bright day would be the day his world turned to darkness.<br/>It was the day he lost Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness.  Nothing But.

It was a sunny day. Dan remembered it well; it was as if the sun was mocking him then, telling him that the one bright day would be the day his world turned to darkness.  
It was the day he lost Phil.

——-

Phil was in the process of trying to film a video for his youtube channel - trying, because he had a horrible headache that would not go away.  
“Dan?” he calls towards his open bedroom door.  
He hears someone coming up the stairs, then, “Yeah?”  
“Can you get me some ibuprofen? My head is killing me.”  
Dan pops his head in the door 3 minutes later with two tablets in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.  
“Thanks mate.” Phil says, as he swallows the pills with a swig of water.  
“Welcs.” Dan says, rather ironically with a sarcastic grin. “Need anything else? I’m going to pop off to Tescos for some things.”  
“No,” Phil responds, “it’s just a nasty bugger of a headache.”  
“Well, alright then.” Dan says as he walks out of the room.  
Phil sighs, rubbing his temples, and turns his camera on.

——-

Dan should’ve seen it coming. Should have done something, should have been there.  
But he wasn’t.  
“It’s not your fault.”  
Pffffft. Yeah, well if it wasn’t…why did it feel like it was?

——-

It was getting darker in the room. Or, at least Phil thought it was. Also, his eyes must be tired, things were getting slightly fuzzy.  
He put on his glasses.  
He took them off.  
He put them on again.  
No change. That was weird.  
Phil stood up to get his glasses cleanser, when he felt very dizzy.  
He sat back down.  
“I got up too fast, that’s all” he thought. That’s all. And he was tired. Nothing more to it. He could film tomorrow. He just needed some rest. He stood again to turn the camera off, when the room tilted sideways.  
He felt his body hit the floor, felt the blood coming from his nose.

Something was wrong.

“D-dan?” why wasn’t his voice working? “D-d-dan?” he tried again.  
Nothing but a whisper.  
Phil moved his arms to crawl towards the door. Why were they shaking? And why did they feel so heavy, as if cinderblocks were on top of them?  
And his eyes. His eyelids were begging his brain to let them close. To rest….to sleep.  
NO! Phil! Get to the door!  
“D-a-an?’  
His head was too heavy, too painful. It felt as though it was being split into several different pieces.  
Then, he heard the front door open.  
“God….if you’re real…please.”  
He was fading, the dark felt so comforting. So peaceful.  
“Phil?” He could hear someone. Who was it?  
Dan.  
Dan.  
“D-d-a-an!”  
“Dan” it was little more than a breath.  
“Phil? Where are you? I got some more ibupr- PHIL!”

Blackness.  
nothing  
but  
the dark.

the  
dark.

——-

Nothing gave way to something.  
Sirens. Someone…crying?  
Why? For him?

——-

“CLEAR!”  
Life. Breath. Pulling.

nothing.

“AGAIN! CLEAR!”

tugging. pulsing. a flutter.

nothing.

——-

He hears screaming.  
“NO! no, he’s too young! He’s not done!”  
Then, a large crash. Something is shaking.  
“Sir! Unless you calm down, you need to leave!”  
moaning.  
“no…no. no no no no no.”  
Who was screaming?  
Dan?  
Dan.  
DAN.  
Dan…  
d….a…….n……….

darkness.

——-

Beeping. Light touches. Whispers.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Nothing.  
Nothing but sweet, blissful, nothing.

——-

“Dan, it was a brain aneurysm. Most times they go unnoticed.” “It’s not your fault.”  
“Sorry for your loss.”

Words. Words are empty.  
They mean nothing.

_Laughter. Hugs. The smell of the tube._  
_“Nice to finally meet you!”_  
_Bright blue eyes and lopsided smiles._  
_Black hair and freckled shoulders._  
_Whispered rawrs and shouted hello’s._  
_Clicking of keys, soft piano drifting through._  
_Black ice cream on mountain tops._  
_Jump scares and falling off chairs._  
_Morning coffees and late night takeaway._  
_Manchester, London, Japan, the world._  
_Concerts and dinners._  
_Short train rides, and long plane rides._

Those. Those meant something.

He could feel himself flying.

Then falling.

Wait. wait. WAIT. This was wrong. He changed his mind!  
Go back!  
 Go back!  


Go _back!_

Then.

 

Nothing.

——-

“Millions around the globe mourn the loss of not only popular youtuber and BBC radio one presenter Phil Lester, but also Dan Howell.”

“In what appears to be a suicide attempt after the death of longtime best friend…”

“‘#RIPPHAN’ has been trending for over 3 weeks now, as tributes to the web celeb duo pour in.”

“Thousands of young teenagers showed up at the old site of the Manchester Wheel to hold a vigil for Dan & Phil…”

“The end of an era…”

“The end…”

The End.


End file.
